Left In Good Spirits

by Anne Pleydon

  Kenny laughs. “Look at me. Just tell staff. We need a paper trail. You know how it is.”

  “Can’t you fill it out for me?”

  “I could. But I’m not going to.”

  “You coming to my unit today?”

  “Oh, it’s your unit? I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, you know how it is.”

  “I’m not cool enough. But, Laura will be on your unit this morning. So, don’t be an asshole to her or I’ll hear about it.”

  “Alright,” Cody says with a smile but does not look at Laura. He points at Kenny, “I don’t think you’re allowed to talk to me like that.”

  “You can fill out a complaint form.”

  “Where can I get that?”

  “Right next to the referral forms.”

  “Oh, I see how it is.”

  “Do you? I don’t think you do.”

  “I’m fillin’ that out,” Cody says.

  “The referral?”

  “The complaint form. I know my rights.”

  “Hmm. Fill out that referral.”

  “I will. I will.”

  “You going back to the unit?”

  “I’ll be there after garbage.”

  “You and Michelin?”

  “Yep.” Cody starts flexing his arms.

  “Oh, Jesus,” Kenny says and starts walking immediately toward the unit wing. Laura follows without a word. She wants to talk to Kenny about Cody but senses Kenny is already preoccupied with something else.

  Laura feels herself taking a deep breath as Kenny leads her down the hallway to the unit door.

  “Let’s see if this is a good time.” Kenny peers through the tiny window on the steel unit door and presses the button next to the door. Then, Laura feels Kenny’s eyes on her. Kenny grimaces, “Oh crap. Put that lanyard in your jacket pocket. Baird will lose it if he sees that around your neck. Yeah, I know. Do as I say, not as I do. Oh great, service with a smile.” There is someone at the unit door. It swings open.

  “Hi, Frank,” Kenny says with a sweetness that Laura hears only when Kenny is speaking with staff. Laura sees Kenny move on to her toes to see past Frank. Her supervisor’s eyes are scanning the unit looking for someone but then rest again on Frank’s face.

  “Doc.”

  “Here’s your victim for the day. Be nice!”

  “Hello!” Frank thrusts out his hand toward Laura. He has playing cards in his other hand. “You will be our guest. You can play cards with us if you like.”

  Laura steps inside. This is the first time she has ever been inside a jail or at least the part that looks like a jail. She likes Frank instantly and sticks by his side. He is older and seems so calm. Three boys are watching a television that sits on a cart next to the staff office. They are as close to the tv as they can get. A fourth boy is sitting in a chair next to his room. Two other boys are playing cards at table obviously waiting for Frank to return to the game. Laura remembers advice from Kenny and looks at each boy in the eye with a polite smile. The boys watching television don’t look at her until she passes and she feels their eyes on her body and is aware of the glance shared between them. Frank leads her into the staff office in the back of the unit.

  Mr. Baird is two finger typing when Frank leads Laura to the office. Frank raps twice on the door to get Baird’s attention and walks away immediately to re-join the boys and their card game. Baird glances over at Laura and then keeps typing. Laura does not feel as comfortable as she did by Frank’s side. There is something unsettling in the way Mr. Baird’s dark eyes look at her. He also looks like he is in peak physical condition which makes Laura feel the buttons pulling on her blouse. She remembers how Kenny told her to always wait with a neutral facial expression and mood. Finally, Mr. Baird rises and shakes her hand. They step back out on to the unit. They stand with their backs to the office and look out onto the floor. The white kid in the yellow shirt is watching tv and leaning his chair on the back legs.

  “Down,” says Baird, and the youth sucks his teeth and rests all legs back on the floor. He hunches over to examine the television screen again.

  “So, have you been on any of the units yet?” Baird looks at Laura.

  “No, this is my first. Well, the Mental Health Unit.” She is aware of his size and his unwavering gaze.

  “The units are all the same but these are bigger. You see 12 rooms around the outside and the common area, showers, staff washroom, kitchen area, and around there is the laundry room. We have 8 kids right now. Two are out doing garbage. There is no school today because it’s a PD Day. They had the choice of going to the gym or free time and they chose free time.” His lips tighten.

  The youth in the yellow t-shirt watching tv rubs his chest and leans back in his chair again, “Hey, Bear, I wanted to go.”

  “Speak up next time, Glover.”

  “I wanted to go,” mocks the largest youth sitting across from Frank. Laura’s eyes widen. The youth with jet black hair looks like an adult. The kid laughs and reveals a gap between his two front teeth. Frank responds, “Just play your cards, Burrard.”

  “We have aggression replacement training in 20 minutes,” Baird says to Laura.

  “No, shit, free time all day,” Glover says. He keeps rubbing his hands on his yellow shirt. His right leg is bouncing.

  Baird shoots Glover a look and the kid breaks eye contact and resumes watching television.

  Baird says to Laura, “I’ll have them introduce themselves at program.” He pauses to listen to his earpiece, then presses the mic. “That’s fine.” He looks at Frank and says, “We got two returning.”

  Chapter 8

  CODY STOPS IN THE ROTUNDA to stretch his back and take off his gloves. He and Michelin have finished collecting garbage from all the units in record time. He likes it when the OIC opens the gate to let them take the cart full of bags out to the dumpster. Even though they are just in the parking lot and heaving large black plastic bags in to the bin, sometimes even in the rain and snow, it feels like freedom. He likes the idea that he gets out and that he could run if he wanted to run. He knows very few of the other kids get to work around the facility. The dream job of course is to get to use the sit-down mower on the lawn around the facility. That is a privilege. The last kid blew it though by huffing gas out of it and no one had been trusted to do it since. Cody doubts the OIC will ever consider him for it. Fuck that. He doesn’t plan on being here in the summer. He wishes he had kitchen duty though. That would be sweet.

  Cody and Michelin walk by School Control. Cody is tall and lanky and he knows they appear a mis-matched pair with Michelin appearing somewhat stunted for his age. Cody has his sleeves rolled up; he’s sweating slightly. Michelin’s white sneakers are blinding. Cody shakes his head. Michelin always looks pristine and cool and dry even after they do the same amount of work. The boys pause at the doors to the boys’ wing. Cody presses the button and places his hand on the door. Both boys stare at the staff at School Control.

  Michelin never stops talking in a low voice so only Cody can hear. “I mean geez. Look at these guys. Take your time, boys.”

  “Hand off the door,” a staff barks. It’s Wolcott. Cody takes his hand of the door and rolls his eyes so only Michelin can see. Michelin covers his mouth to hide his smile. They are buzzed through.

  They push protocol and walk side by side down the hallway as though sauntering down the street in their home neighbourhood. Neighbourhoods. Cody knows that when they’re on the outs they are merely Facebook friends. Their homes are far away from each other. Michelin lives in the city; Cody lives out in the valley on one of the reserves out there.

  Michelin continues, “You gotta get on kitchen, man. I ate like 5 sandwiches the other day prepping for lunch. Rita’s the bomb. She doesn’t give a shit. She brought me in a coffee once. Stole one of those packs of bologna.”

  “Where’d you put it?” Cody doesn’t mind Michelin’s talking and he doesn’t know wh
y.

  “Right here,” Michelin points at his crotch.

  “That’s nasty.” Cody wants to laugh and also punch Michelin at the same time.

  “I’ve had it in my room for like a week.”

  “That shit has to be in the fridge, man,” Cody feels like he is always teaching Michelin. He wonders, What’s wrong with this kid?

  “You know you want some.”

  “I don’t want to touch your meat, fag,” Cody retorts, and pushes him. “But get me some sugar packs and peanut butter packs next time.”

  “Aiight.”

  “OIC’s got the hate on for me. Dude’s watching me on garbage like I’m gonna do something. Like, what? Fuckin’ start a fire with my fuckin’ ... what, with my ...”

  “With your legs, man. Like a cricket,” Michelin offers.

  “What the fuck? No. Man. Ya gotta ... what?”

  “Like Miss Bliss was talking about. Remember in English she got into that fuckin’ cricket story.”

  They are laughing now almost doubled over. Cody returns, “You fuckin’ idiot. It was how they make their music. Their song.” He is solemn as he says song. He is impersonating Miss Bliss. Cody places his hand over his heart. “It’s their song, Michelin. It’s beautiful. Nature touches me. It touches all of us” and he goes on until Michelin starts laughing again.

  Cody lectures his friend again.“Not fire. Crickets don’t rub their legs together to make fuckin’ fire.”

  “Fire bugs, man.”

  “I can’t, man. Sometimes you’re just too stupid.” Cody uses his hand to signal that the conversation is over.

  They reach their unit and Cody presses the button with his hand on the door. Nothing happens. They both look up at the camera and Cody takes his hand off the door. It buzzes to let them in.

  Chapter 9

  BAIRD STANDS IN THE middle of the unit with Laura. He has taken the psychology student through a typical day on the unit. He is wary of mental health professionals but believes their students are even worse. He believes these students are being trained to feel superior to frontline staff. This is where it begins, he thinks. These students are one interview away from making more money than me. And they know it. But what do they know? Still he cannot allow himself to be rude or dismissive toward Laura. He feels he knows a lot and wants her to truly understand and respect what the frontline staff do. A part of him thinks he can stop another professional from turning into a clueless asshole toward staff if only he can make them see.

  Baird heads toward his office again and Laura follows him. He hears the unit door open behind him and Cody and Michelin walk in. Laura continues to follow Baird into the office. She flinches ever so slightly as Cody and Michelin walk into the office after them.

  Baird’s face softens as he sits in his office chair again. Laura sits in a chair next to him and breathes out slowly. Baird turns his gaze to the computer and moves his mouse to wake up the screen.

  Without taking his eyes off the screen, Baird says, “You boys can shower before group.”

  “No, man,” Cody responds throwing himself in a chair. Michelin remains standing and is shifting his weight from foot to foot. They have Baird’s attention now. He watches as both boys acknowledge and simultaneously dismiss Laura’s presence in the room.

  Cody leans forward. “Baird. Check this out. Michelin thinks that ...”

  “Nah,” Michelin says and signals to end that conversation.

  Cody continues, “What’s up, Baird? Is Helmcken coming here or what? Why’s he still in seg? Is it because he’s mental? Because I heard he has mental problems. I don’t think you have the training to deal with something like that. I like a quiet unit. I want things quiet.”

  Michelin covers his mouth laughing. His eyes darting out on to the unit.

  “Is there a problem?” Baird says to Cody.

  “Not with me. As long as he knows what’s up.”

  “You can both do 5 days in discipline then. It’s your choice.”

  “It’s not my choice if he doesn’t know what’s up.”

  Michelin nods in agreement with everything that Cody says.

  “It’s always your choice,” Baird states.

  Cody continues, “I don’t know why you guys want a situation. I mean, isn’t that why you guys are paid the big bucks? To reduce the conflict? Yeah, reduce the risk. This is a high risk situation.”

  Baird laughs. “That’s your problem. Your failures have nothing to do with me.”

  “This is your job, man. I’m telling you. I’m helping you out here.” Cody leans back against the wall. “At least you got rid of that skinner, Davie. That was good move. I approved that transfer. Finally, you guys are listening to me.”

  Michelin laughs and says, “Baird, you don’t care. You’ve been here too long. You don’t care if we get killed in here. Or if we starve to death. I’m starving.” He rubs his stomach.

  “I’m dying for some food, too, Baird,” Cody chimes in. “It ain’t right that you don’t have any food here. Why don’t you bring us in a pizza or something with all the money you’re making. I’m not eating those diarrhea tacos again tonight, either. I mean, what is that? Do you know what kind of kids they let work in kitchen? I don’t know where their hands have been. Michelin says it’s not even meat. I don’t know what crawled in there and died in that taco shell. Are you trying to kill us? Look at me, I’m losing muscle. I need protein. I’m practically dying in here. I need to speak with the Ombudsman to get some food up in here.”

  Michelin asks Baird, “Hey, how long you be working here ... hey, what’s the longest any kid was here?”

  “It’s my right,” Cody continues, “To contact the Ombudsman. For some real food! We’re not animals. Yeah, get me the number. I want to make my phone call. Get me some subs.”

  Baird sighs. “I think 3-4 years.”

  Cody sobers immediately and speaks to the floor, “That’s fucked up. Seriously. Sorry, but that ain’t ever happening to me. That’s some fucked up shit right there.”

  “No way.” Michelin puts his hands on his head and walks away. He returns immediately. “Like remand and sentence together? For like murder? In this unit?”

  “Not this unit.”

  “What about Hastings? He was in this unit,” Michelin persists.

  Cody’s shoulders curve in a bit and he scratches his neck.

  Baird responds, “I don’t remember” and Michelin nods like Baird has answered his question.

  Michelin says, “I heard it once took the team like 10 guys to get him out of his cell once.”

  “I don’t know who you guys are talking about, man,” Cody comments.

  “You know, Marco Hastings and Eddie.”

  “Yeah, I know. But you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cody returns, staring hard at Michelin.

  “They’re all about the paper, now.”

  “Chatty,” a voice calls out. Burrard has joined the boys watching television and is closer to the office now.

  “Michelin, shut up, man.” Cody stares hard at Burrard and then at Michelin.

  “Nah, I mean, they’re legit now. They own a bar and stuff,” says Michelin, ignoring Cody.

  “No, shit,” Cody returns.

  “You think those guys are legit?” Baird asks.

  “They’re half-legit,” Michelin says.

  Baird slaps his hands together with a hearty rumble. “Half-legit. What the hell is that?”

  “They run a bar or some shit. It’s cool. It’s like, fuck, what’s it called, the Killem or something.”

  “Kill them?” Baird wipes tears from his eyes. “Go get ready for group.”

  “What’s with your memory, man?” Cody asks. “You smoke too much.”

  “No, it’s not the Killem, it’s Clam, or something.”

  Baird is surprised to hear Laura’s voice seem to come out of no where. She offers, “Calamity.”

  The boys seem
to notice her again for the first time. Michelin nods to her, “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “You been there?” Baird swings his chair to look at Laura and he sees her face redden.

  She stammers, “No, but even I know about that place. It’s an after-hours club. It’s down off Basin, like an hour down Highway 1.” Baird takes a mental note of this information. He would never go to a night club but he likes to know which areas of town to avoid running into previous Merivale boys. He swings back to face the boys.

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s it. I can’t see you there, though.” Michelin is excited.

  Cody laughs at him. “You’ve never been there. You don’t even fuckin’ know.”

  Michelin is still unable to pronounce the name of the bar. “Why’d they call it that?”

  “I have no idea,” Laura says.

  “What does that mean?” Michelin asks Baird.

  “Look it up,” he says, grabbing a binder off his desk. He enjoys chatting with the youth but knows he needs to re-direct them back to programming soon.

  “Just tell me.”

  “This is a calamity right now, I’ll tell you that,” Baird says, straight faced.

  Michelin continues, “Like I heard Marco and Eddie run that place. It’s cool. I want to run a business like that someday, too.”

  “I strongly doubt they own that bar. Or run it. Eddie couldn’t tie his own shoes,” Baird says, and stands up to usher the boys out of his office.

  Michelin speaks absently as he walks out of the office, “Farzy is with them guys, too, you know.” He taps Cody on the arm. “Isn’t he your cuz?”

  “He’s my cuz ‘cause he’s brown?”

  “You guys are all related,” Michelin defends.

  “That’s some racist shit right there, you goof,” Cody says, but he has a half-smile on his face.

  Michelin continues, “He’s your cuz, though, right?”

  “Yeah, Farewell’s my cuz.” Cody says.

  “Noah Farewell is your cousin?” Baird asks.

  “We’re all related somehow,” Cody returns.

  “I just fuckin’ said that,” Michelin says.